The Good Fight
by Rogue Amazon Boo
Summary: One shot, DL Danny finds Lindsay drowning her sorrows. Spoilers for Stealing Home.


Disclaimer: Belongs to CBS. Please don't sue me, I'm broke.

Author's note: This is the third part of a series of one shot fics I have been writing. The first one was called Still Waters, the second Complicated, please read those if you want to understand the continuity.

Spoiler alert: This work contains spoilers for Stealing Home

The Good Fight

By

Rogue Amazon Boo

She usually didn't drink when she was upset but she figured in this case she was entitled to a one, or two, or three. Lindsay Monroe was none too steady as she raised her glass of scotch to her lips and downed it in one gulp. The ice clinked against the side as she brought it back down and signaled the bartender for a refill.

She was drinking the good stuff, not the paint thinner that some bartenders tried to pass off as scotch and thinking about the last time she had consumed this shit. She had been toasting another absolute fucking bastard then as well and she figured it was only appropriate that she keep up the tradition.

The bartender had been busy with another costumer but he finally made his way over. Silently he poured her another two fingers but he was watching her in the way that bartenders tended to do when they thought the person has had enough.

Lindsay wanted to tell him to go to hell but was still coherent enough to hold her tongue. She could also still see Sara Butler's face every time she closed her eyes. Those two facts coupled together signaled, at least in her mind that she wasn't even close to over her limit tonight.

She wanted to be numb, and she wasn't leaving till she got there.

Lindsay took another swig of her refreshed drink and tried to forget the calluses on the girl's hands and fingered the same calluses that covered her own. She tried to forget the look on the face of Sara's father when he told her that his last words to his little girl before she left Montana had been to let her know she didn't have a place to come home too.

What Lindsay most wanted to forget was the look on the face of the cold bastard that had killed her when he had hung up that phone.

She finished her fourth scotch and was about to signal for another one when a masculine hand appeared above the rim of her glass. She turned her head and looked up into the face of her partner Danny Messer. He was frowning down at her.

"I think you've had enough Monroe."

She jerked the glass away, spilling some ice on the counter, and attempted to glare at him.

"I'm a big girl Danny and I'll know when I have had enough." She wasn't slurring her words but she did have that distinct cadence to her voice that most people got when they were not completely sober. Her speech had slowed and she was choosing her words carefully. Danny took the glass from her hand and pushed it away. He then wrapped one of his hands around her upper arm, careful not to press too tightly, and guided her up from the bar stool.

She didn't fight him because she was suddenly much too busy trying to remember how to stand.

"We're getting out of here." Danny didn't give her enough time to get her bearings. He pulled out some cash and threw it down on the bar to pay for her last drink and then herded her through the crowd and out the door. It wasn't until the night air hit her that Lindsay realized that he was manhandling her and that she didn't want to leave. She wrenched away from him and almost stumbled but managed to catch herself.

Danny let her go but made sure that he was close enough to her to catch her if she fell.

"You are not my father, Messer. You have no right to drag me—out of a public place—like—like…" she lost her train of thought before she could finish and swayed. Danny was at her side in an instant, cupping her elbow, and keeping a firm grip on her to keep her from eating pavement.

"Some one had to do something, Montana. You've gone and gotten yourself hammered."

Normally he would have found that funny but nothing about today had struck him as humorous. Not even the belligerent stance that Lindsay was trying to take with him.

"You listen here—I am not—hammered. I am perfectly capable of taking care—of—myself," she said while poking him in the chest.

Danny grabbed her hand and in a fit of annoyance managed to say exactly the wrong thing.

"You mean like Sara Butler did?"

She slapped him, hard. Danny was still rubbing his cheek as she stumbled away from him and started down the street. Cursing, he followed her and caught up with her in front of a deserted bank building where she had sunk down on to the stone steps.

He approached her cautiously and sat down next to her. She didn't tell him to go away or try to slap him again which he took as good signs, but he was more concerned with the way her slim shoulders were shaking. She was crying.

With a slow and deliberate movement he scooted closer to her and put his arm around her so that he could pull her towards him. She came willingly and sobbed into his shoulder.

"I'm sorry Monroe. That was out of line," he whispered. She sniffed and he felt her small hands grasp the fabric of his shirt, bunching it up in her fists.

"I went there tonight," she whispered. He cocked his head and a puzzled frown marred his smooth features.

"Where? The bar?" He felt her shake her head in the negative.

"No—the jail. I wanted to ask him why he did it. Why he chose Sara—Why he killed her. That son of a bitch wouldn't say a god damn word."

Danny sucked in a breath and cursed low and harsh and his arms tightened around her. Jesus, it was no wonder he found her trying to drink half of Manhattan under the table.

"Montana…" he started to say but she cut him off.

"She was from Montana." Then she added, "Sid says you call me Montana because you've got a crush on me."

Danny almost smiled. He knew that she would never have mentioned that if she wasn't inebriated. She also seemed to have forgotten that he had more than confirmed Sid's little observation outside of the hospital a few weeks ago.

"What can I say? I'm curious about how all that horse back riding and outdoorsy, clean air has affected your stamina."

He was smirking when he said it but Lindsay wasn't in any condition to flirt. Instead she seemed to sink back into that deep state of melancholy he had first found her in.

"Why did he do it, Danny? I need to know. Why Sara—what did she ever do to anyone?"

He sighed and she felt it go through her entire body. She sounded so lost and he didn't know what to do to make it better.

"Jesus, Monroe I don't know. He did it because he is a sick bastard and Sara was an easy target—but we got him. You and me, Montana. We put the son of a bitch away and he ain't gonna be able to hurt no one else. You did good today. Don't try to forget that cause sometimes it is all we got. Sometimes all you get from this job is knowing that ya fought the good fight and you can't forget that, ever."

He wasn't sure if she was really processing everything he said but the death grip that she had on his shirt loosened and she seemed to relax a little bit more.

"How did you know I was trying to forget?" She asked. He smiled.

"Cause I ain't ever seen you drink anything stronger than beer or white wine." She nodded and a few moments later her head started to droop. She was falling asleep on him, literally.

"Come on. Let's get you home," he said. He got her to her feet and hailed a cab and with a sense of deja-vu he got her in the back and slide in next to her. He was the one to give the cabby her address this time and when they got to her place he stayed with her until they got to her front door.

She was fumbling for her keys and after a few tries so finally managed to get them into the key hole and opened her door. Danny followed her inside.

"I'm going to take a shower and go to bed." She announced not looking at him. He could tell that she still wasn't completely sober, but she had sobered up enough to be embarrassed by her earlier outbursts.

Danny caught her arm and pulled her back in front of him, using his free hand to lift her chin. She reluctantly met his eyes.

"For the record, I've got more than just a crush on you. Montana." He brushed his thumb gently over her bottom lip and caused her to gasp, but he didn't kiss her.

"You think about that." She bit her lip and backed away from him an invitation evident in her liquid brown eyes.

"Danny I…" She started to say but he shook his head.

"No Montana, I want you sober. If we go there you are going to remember everything, and I mean everything."

He gave her one last searching look and then left before he got himself into trouble. She didn't try to stop him.

Instead she managed to take a shower and pass out in her bed until morning, but she still couldn't get the image of Sara to leave her in peace nor could she get the feel of Danny's touch off of her lips.

It made for a very interesting combination of nightmares and dreams. She wasn't certain of what tomorrow would bring but one of the last things her alcohol seeped mind recalled before finally casting her into oblivion was this. She had fought the good fight today and she was going to hold on to that with all of her might.

As for Danny, well she wasn't going to try and figure that out just yet, but she was starting to think that there was something good there that held a world of promise. Now all she had to do was have enough courage to take it.

Fin


End file.
